Lords of Nocturne (Warhammer 40,000) by Nick Kyme

Author:Nick Kyme [Kyme, Nick]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

I

Rally

The damage worsened the closer they got to the docks. It was a short walk made longer by the fact that sections of the space port were closed off and the usual means of conveyance were denied to them.

Praetor led close to a hundred Firedrakes down the expansive corridors of Prometheus. They were not a full complement. Costly missions to Sepulchre IV and the space hulk Protean had taken a toll on the ranks of the Firedrakes.

‘I see the look in your eyes, Herculon.’ It was Halknarr, a brother-sergeant of First and one of the Firedrakes who’d also been to Volgorrah.

‘What look?’ Praetor glanced askance at the old campaigner. ‘There is no look to be seen.’

Halknarr gave a rueful smile that creased his already wrinkled features. Age was evident in the greying around his temples, the numerous lines around his eyes and mouth, but experience had made him shrewd too. He kept his voice low.

‘Precisely that. You seem to be as stone, brother.’ Even Halknarr’s trappings were vintage. His Terminator armour was of an ancient design, a previous incarnation that was just as inviolable but bulkier that operated an extended chainfist and a triple mag storm bolter that was anything but standard.

‘I am ready for war, Halknarr.’

‘Then fill your gaze and heart with fire, for you’ll need it.’

Sacrifice and death were a warrior’s destiny, but Praetor had seen overmuch of that in all too recent memory. It was part of the reason for the remembering and the burning of the hand in the sacred flame. None who fell in battle would ever be forgotten – their legacy would live on. He vowed not to lose any more so needlessly, but knew the perils of their present mission.

It had hardened him, near petrified his soul.

‘A warrior fights with heart and mind, as well as bolter and blade,’ Praetor quoted Zen’de. ‘Thank you, brother.’

Halknarr merely nodded. ‘I need you angry. It’ll be my back you are guarding after all.’ He smiled broadly and they laughed together.

Behind them, Vo’kar laughed too.

Halknarr turned his head towards the heavy weapon specialist.

‘Do you even know what this is about?’ he asked.

‘No, but it seemed a good time for humour,’ said Vo’kar honestly.

Praetor laughed louder still, and left Halknarr muttering.

‘Should keep his mind on igniting the flame and not listening to the conversations of others…’

Wise, yes, but Halknarr was also cantankerous.

Levity, however incongruous, was what bonded these warriors. Praetor knew they had shared blood, honour, glory and defeat across countless battlefields. Only now this was a war upon their own soil, on the very earth they had sworn to protect. Unlike the other Salamanders, the First did not live amongst the peoples of Nocturne. Some thought that meant they were haughty, arrogant, uncaring of the plight of mortals.

Like other Space Marines…

It was not so. They knew of the horrors of the galaxy, to a greater and more detailed extent than many captains. It was their solemn duty to gird mankind from those horrors and that could best be achieved through seclusion and isolation.

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